Hands Of Time [Chapter 8]

As the young man stood at the window he was closer to me now then he had been earlier. With this closer position I could see his face more clearly now. Why did he seem so familiar to me? I was sure that I had never crossed paths before with this young stranger, who was now intruding my attic. So why then was there this fleeting thought in my head that I knew him, that I had seen his face somewhere or at sometime before? The answer to this question would eventually come to me but for the time being it would remain out of my mind’s grasp, like the proverbial carrot hanging before the working horse. In an instant another reality, one that was much more concrete and urgent, replaced this allusive thought. “The child”! I cried aloud to myself. The melodrama in my attic had reached its climax, I had been prevented from joining the earlier acts of this play but maybe, just maybe, I could be an actor in the last scene of this performance. Maybe I could prevent this play from truly being, from what up to this point was classic tragedy. Once again I bolted down the stairs, this time with a driving focus that fueled my body to move like it has never moved before. In a flash I had hit the bottom of the stairs and continued to propel past the grandfather clock, turned around the corner and dashed towards the front door of my house. I was moving in such a fast paced frenzy that I did not even have the chance to look into the face of Father time to see what he announced. All I could think of was reaching my front yard and rescuing that child. I would tell them that the child was not un-wanted, because I wanted it, and hopefully they would listen and understand. My forward motion was halted, only momentarily, as what I thought was my last obstacle to reaching the child stood before me. I quickly had to apply the brakes to my legs to prevent me from slamming face first into the inside of my front door. Once at the door my hands moved with lightening fast speed to unlatch the two locks so as to remove that seemingly one last hindrance to my final goal. Once the door was flung open, I shot out of it like a speeding bullet. The four men were slowly making their way back to the van; they must have taken a few last moments to finish their cigarettes and conversations before getting back into the van with the sole reason for their little visit, in hand. I saw the object of my hearts’ desire being held in the arms of one of these monsters and this only enhanced my bodies’ speed and my heart’s determination to rescue the baby. As I flew off my front porch I had only one thought coursing through my brain and that was the all consuming conviction that I needed to save that child. Within a blink of an eye I was upon my target, I was within a few feet of the soldier who was carrying the child. I stretched out my arms to grab the child, thoughts of victory pulsing through my mind, when all of a sudden disaster struck, and defeat was my only consolation prize.